


sleepy poets

by ritsumi



Category: La Divina Commedia | The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6576199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsumi/pseuds/ritsumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>starring a bitter boy in love with an all too grumpy poet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was obviously inspired by dante's divine comedy, featuring the two characters dante and virgil. just a quirky story from my active imagination, an alternate modern universe where dante and virgil decide to settle down. hope you enjoy!

“Midnight,” Dante reads aloud the time, the television screen flickering on and on idly. Sleeping beside him – or rather, leaning his entire weight on Dante – is Virgil. If it wasn’t for the warm, peaceful poet rubbing against his shoulder, Dante would already be up and cozy in bed. Instead, nothing but endless late night television shows accompanies him throughout the chilly night. 

Why is Dante the one being given the brunt of Virgil’s faults? Virgil never had time for sleep and thus became a daily embodiment of just a grumpy and ill-tempered human being. Always busy, that damn poet, either sitting across from his laptop furiously typing or out for a chance to get his books published. Not a dear moment for poor deprived Dante, no kisses, no hugs, and certainly no _sex_. Shouldering Virgil while he sleeps comfortably is probably the closest form of interaction they’ve had in the past month.

Again Dante shifts his attention towards the clock on the coffee table, growing weary of the time. _I have a job too, asshole_ , groans Dante as he attempts to release himself from Virgil’s grasp. Only to be met with a soft “nnn” and a hand tightly grabbing hold of his wrist.

“If only you were this clingy while awake,” he utters, recalling how inattentive and cold Virgil could be with a sigh. Dante snuggles in closer to Virgil, pressing his nose to his blond hair and rubbing against it in a childish manner. When he turns to face Virgil he sees his lover, his best friend, and the person dearest to him. But he also sees a stubborn and unfriendly boy, but despite all his flaws Dante could never love him any less.

He reaches out and kisses the sleeping poet on the nose, and he himself too succumbs to deep sleep (even if he despises sleeping on the couch) resting against Virgil.


	2. salty virgil for the fifteenth time (he counted)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where virgil enjoys slamming shower walls out of pure anger - and love *wink wonk* for his precious dante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop, sorry if there are any edits, i wrote this chapter in the span of like an hour in a hotel room crowded with my /family/ shudder and it's currently almost 2 am, i thought, sleep? nah maybe some gay fanfic for these poets because i have literally no original ideas lately and i needed some kind of already existing idea to branch off of and i was also thinking of drawing? but drawing stresses me out sometime so i decided to just write okay well good night enjoy this chapter aha

To Dante, their first meeting is a memory as clear as day, but Virgil refuses to mention that past without stammering and flustering furiously.

At only twelve years old, Dante had his sights set on his first love. 

_Beatrice._

Unfortunately, Dante was far from charming. He was clumsy, abrasive, loud-spoken, and too often forgot to brush his bed hair before strolling into class. Virgil, on the other hand, kept quiet and had a mysterious aura to him, one that apparently, Beatrice found appealing. They were always together, and Dante couldn’t help but yearn for that kind of friendship with her. Maybe even more, his naïve twelve-year-old brain hoped.

Dante lurked the hallways of his school, making sure to figure out which class those two were in. Once he gained this information, all was needed for his plan to begin. Befriend Beatrice and Virgil.

 

***

  
Dante searches far and wide, sprinting down the hallways in heavy puffs to make it in time. School just ended, and this was the perfect opportunity to walk Beatrice (and Virgil?) home. It just so happened they lived in the same area. 

Students clamor out of the classroom, shouts of voices and laughter echoing the halls surrounding him. He gets up on his tiptoes to search for Beatrice in the sea of the crowd, the violent bodies of middle schoolers occasionally slamming against his shoulders. The shouts eventually simmer down and he hears a light shuffling from inside the classroom. 

Dante slides open the door and faces Virgil, who is only inches from him. Alarmed, Virgil clutches his notebook tighter in his arm and skids backwards, falling to the floor.

“A-are you alright?” Dante turns his palm and reaches out to Virgil, but he slaps it away.

Visible confusion and a tinge of hurt flashes on Dante’s face for a moment, before he looks away from Virgil. “R-right. Sorry. My bad.”

Virgil wobbles back up to his former stance, dusting off his pants in a prim manner. He adjusts his tie and circle frame glasses. “You’re here for Beatrice.”

“What?” Caught off guard, Dante nearly trips on nothing, which only confirms Virgil’s earlier statement.

“She just left.”

Dante feels the sudden urge to chase her. Virgil can see it in his eyes.

“She’s not interested in mindless idiots like you,” he scoffs, leaving behind a speechless Dante as he walks out the door.

“W-WHAT?!” 

Virgil feels someone grab his collar back, pulling him into an accidental warm embrace momentarily before he pushes that someone away from him. He feels flustered, maybe even violated, and quickly hides his embarrassment with his hands. Brown eyes clash with blue, and Virgil suddenly feels an unfamiliar wave of anxiety as Dante relentlessly bombards him with questions so close he could feel the brown haired boy’s hot breath.

“Did she mention me?” Dante asks, eyes shining in anticipation for Virgil’s response. It was almost like Dante was aching for any kind of attention from Beatrice. How sickening, Virgil thought.

“ _No_ , she did not.” Virgil prefers to keep his answers short and tidy. No point in useless explanations.

He continues walking. Dante pesters him further, and Virgil continues answering in short bursts in an impassive tone. Before long, he realizes they’re nearing his house and he has spent the last twenty minutes talking to this blubbing idiot.

What if the idiocy infects him, too? Virgil’s blood runs cold as he shuts the door on Dante’s face and runs to the nearest shower.

He strips off his clothes and practically leaps in, scrubbing himself clean and spark, free of any Dante Alighieri. _Gross, gross, gross, gross!_ Virgil screams in the comfort of his thoughts, going in for a fifth cleansing. It all comes back to him, that hug, his annoying, oh so annoying voice, and the way his face melted into a mess when talking about Beatrice – it all frustrated it him so _fucking_ much! He slams his fist on the shower wall and breathes heavily. 

Why would it happen to irk him so much? 

He covers his face with his right hand, muttering small words so invisible that even he couldn’t even see it all times.

“… _Dante Alighieri, how dare you… make me feel so…”_


End file.
